Fearsome Critters
by The All Real Numbers Symbol
Summary: "Don't go out there! The Hidebehind will get you!" "Alfred, that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." England retorted as he stuck his head out the tent door, just in time for a jackalope to go bounding by.


**Fearsome Critters**

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><p><strong>Summary:<strong> "Don't go out there! The Hidebehind will get you!" "Alfred, that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." England retorted as he stuck his head out the tent door, just in time for a jackalope to go bounding by.

**Genre**: Gneral

**Rating**: K plus

**Notes**: Proving that all the neat folklore critters don't just belong to Europe. What? I like mythological creatures. Also, I have NO idea how this story turned out, so when you get to the bottom, be sure and tell me what you, okay? And as FYI in case you didn't know about Fearsome Critters until you clicked on this story, _Fearsome Critters_ (Creatures) is a term for a group of mythological beasts said to inhabit the American frontier. Thanks to Google and Wikipedia for help with some of the research/creature bios.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Hetalia, or any Fearsome Critters. But I think Fearsome Critters are cool.

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><p>In hindsight Arthur Kirkland, the personification of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, realized that he should have known better then to go on a camping trip with Alfred F. Jones, personification of the United States of America. It wasn't that Alfred wasn't good at camping. No, he was excellent at it. But the stories he told about nonexistent creatures were just too wild, and worse, America tended to believe all of his own stories.<p>

On the second day of their camping trip, as the sun started to sink low over the horizon and the stars started to come out, England realized that he'd left the book he'd started reading back in Alfred's truck, which was parked about a half-mile down the road from the campsite. "Hey Alfred, I'm gonna go get my book." He said.

Alfred, already wrapped in his sleeping bag and reading his own book, looked up from his copy of _Atlas Shrugged_. "Are you sure? It's getting dark out there. The fearsome critters will be out soon!"

"Alfred, be realistic. There are no such creatures." _The fairies would have told me._

"Don't go out there! The Hidebehind will get you!"

"Alfred, that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard," England replied as he unzipped the tent door and stuck his head out, just in time to see a jackrabbit with antelope horns on top of its head go bounding by.

_I did not see that. That did not just happen._ England said to himself as he stepped out of the tent, despite America's protests in the background. _It was not a jackalope. It was… just an ordinary rabbit, and the shadows made it look like it had horns._ He decided as he zipped the door shut and headed off down the trail. _Yes, that's exactly what it was._ He thought smugly as he walked. _There's no such thing as Fearsome Critters._

For a few minutes the walk was peaceful. It was a beautiful night, with a full moon and stars out, and insects chirping to one another in the tall grass.

Then Arthur felt something hit him in the face. It was a twig.

He looked at it, confused, then found himself being pelted by twigs and branches. He threw up his arms to protect himself and tried to see what was attacking him, but to no avail. He was finally retreated back to the tent.

America seemed surprised to see him back. "That was quick. Did you get your book?"

"No." Arthur growled.

America raised an eyebrow. "Um, Artie, you've got a twig in your hair… and another one on your shirt…"

Arthur glanced at his shirt and checked his hair and sure enough, a pair of twigs.

"Did you run into an argopelter?"

"No, I wasn't watching where I was going and I ran into a tree." Arthur said shortly. "Now let me borrow your flashlight. I have to go get my book."

Alfred handed him the flashlight, and less than two minutes later, England was back out, heading back down the trail towards the vehicle.

About halfway down the trail, he heard the sound of someone crying. England paused and swung the flashlight around, looking for the source of the noise. "Is someone there?" He asked softly, imagining a lost child on the trail somewhere.

The sound of crying continued, and Arthur walked towards the stand of trees he was certain it was coming from. "Hello?"

The flashlight landed on a hideously deformed creature hiding behind a pine tree, crying into it's hands. When it realized that Arthur was looking at it, it dissolved into tears. There wasn't a trace of the creature left behind.

Arthur stood there for a moment, then laughed nervously to himself. "Hahaha, I must have been hearing things. I can't let that dumb wanker's stories get to my head." _It was not a squonk, it was my imagination._ He turned, resolute, and began back down the trail, ignoring the sound of high-pitched whistling that was now going on behind him.

However, as he walked, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched. Even after he left the trees and was walking through an open field under a bright full moon, he still felt that something was watching him. Something went bouncing across the trail in front of him; he pretended not to see it.

An owl hooted in a nearby tree. A bat fluttered out of the forest.

It was the dog barking that finally sent him over the edge.

When the dog barked, he darted back towards the forest, determined not to be caught out in the open with what he imagined to be a large, mean dog. But he was running out of fear, and because of that he wasn't watching where he was going and ended up tripping over an overturned root.

He was caught before he could hit the ground. "Gees, Iggy. I thought you were getting your book. What on Earth are you doing now?"

_America_. Arthur realized as he was set back on his feet. He refused to look at the other nation as he said, "I was just on my way back to the camp."

"Did you get your book?"

"No." Arthur admitted, annoyed.

A wet nose pushed into his hand a moment later, and he jumped back. Looking up at him and panting happily was a skinny dog with a head shaped like the head of an axe. "America! What is that thing!"

"Who, Ax? He's just an axehandle hound. Don't mind him. He's harmless, unless you happen to be an axe. Oh, by the way, we're going to have some trouble chopping wood in the morning."

Arthur looked at the taller personification. "What is the meaning of all this?" He asked, then noticed something.

"What's the matter, Artie? You're staring at me like you've seen a ghost or something." Alfred said.

With one arm, the taller nation was holding the squonk from earlier, which had its wart-covered face buried in America's shoulder. Sitting on his other shoulder was a small creature that was something like a cross between a dog and a cat. When it realized England was looking at it, it whistled, sounding like a teakettle as it did. A jackalope and the axehandle hound were rubbing against America's legs. A bizarre bird that England could identify sat on America's head.

"Let me guess. Those are the Fearsome Critters." Arthur said.

"Well, these are some of them." America said. "I bumped into most of them on my here. I had to come make sure you weren't eaten by the hidebehind. I didn't think the hidebehind would be out tonight, but then Jim came by and told me he'd seen it."

"I hate to ask this, but who's Jim?"

"The bird sitting on my head. He's a Goofus Bird. His name is Jim."

"And he can talk?" Arthur asked.

"You bet." Jim replied.

Arthur gawked for a moment, then sighed. "Nevermind. I'm tired. Let's go back to the campsite. I'm ready for bed."

As they walked back to the campsite, Alfred, still holding three of the critters and having the other two jumping and chasing each other around his feet, said, "You know Artie, I thought you would like the Fearsome Creatures. You're always claiming you can see ghosts."

"I can see ghosts. But my friends the ghosts do not sneak up on me the way your Fearsome Creatures did."

"Oh, sorry 'bout that." America said.

"Yeah." Jim echoed.

They were back at the campsite now; America set the squonk down and let the teakettler jump down off of his shoulder. Jim the Goofus Bird stood up and fluttered down off of America's head.

"Thanks for coming by tonight you guys." America told them. "Don't worry about the hidebehind. We'll be safe until dawn."

The jackalope looked at him then turned and bounded off into the trees, followed by the squonk. The axehandle hound ran another ring around America before jumping and setting his two paws on America.

"Get down Ax. You know better than that." Alfred said. The dog, if you could call it that, dropped back down to all fours and went bounding off through the trees.

"Don't eat too many axehandles!" Alfred called after him.

Jim the Goofus Bird grinned at them quite stupidly before opening his wings and flying off, facing backwards the whole time.

"He's flying backwards." Arthur said.

"Yeah. He likes to see where he's been." Alfred explained as though it were the most normal thing in the world. "Well, I'm wiped out. I'm going to bed."

"I think I'll turn in, too." Arthur said as he followed the other nation into the tent.

"Good night Arthur." America said as he snuggled into his sleeping bag.

"Yes, good night." England replied. And he was settling in, though, he heard a familiar sound. "America? Did you make tea?" Then noticed the teakettler, which was whistling again. When it realized England was looking at it, it looked at him happily and wagged its tail. England frowned at it. "You be quiet." He ordered, then moved the creature off his pillow.

"Hey Arthur, did you check your sleeping bag for Rubberados?"

"Alfred, shut up and go to sleep."

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><p><strong>T.A.R.N.S.:<strong> Poor England. he thought America was making everything up, and in the end, America wasn't. So this was a weird, random story idea that popped into my head one day, and in the end I made it into this. You've met the Hetalia characters before, so let's meet the Fearsome Critters!

Argopelter - An ugly creature with an ape-like face. Its favorite pastime is sitting in trees and hurling twigs and branches at passer-by. It is said to be almost ten feet tall.

Axhandle Hound - A dog with a body in the general shape of an axe. It is named after its most favorite food, axe handles. It is said to be nocturnal.

Goofus - A bird that flies backwards (because it would rather see where it's been there where it's going) and builds it's nests upside down. No records say it can talk; I made that part up for the story.

Hidebehind - No one knows what the hidebehind looks like, because it's always hiding behind something. No one ever gets more than a glimpse of it before they're caught and eaten by it.

Rubberado - Also called the bouncing porqupine, it gets around by bouncing on it's rubbery flesh. It can eaten, but needs to be stewwed to keep the meat from bouncing around in your mouth. Eating it is said to give you resiliency.

Squonk - A creature with ill-fitting skin covered in warts and blemishes. It is extremely ugly, and so it hides from view and spends most of it's time hiding. When spotted or captured, it dissolves into bubbles and tears.

Teakettler - And last but not least, this creature is said to look like a small, stubby-legged dog with cat-like ears, and it gets it name from the fact that it makes sound like a tea kettle's whistling. it can also make steam come out of it's mouth.

Okay, I think that's everything. And America was not scared of these creatures because they're part of his folklore, and he's bumped into them before. Yes, that it more or less the same explaination I used for The Dysfunctional Family. Plus, I think the only thing America is really afraid is ghosts, but I could be wrong.

Anyway, I am not sure how I did on this story, so please review and tell me what you thought! I look forward to reading your comments.

Happy Resurrection Day!


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